


A Season Of Miracles

by Leni



Series: Makes Three [12]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Background Rumbelle, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 08:00:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13142412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leni/pseuds/Leni
Summary: "Are you really going to do that on Christmas?"





	A Season Of Miracles

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NropaY_OneEye](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NropaY_OneEye/gifts).



> @nropay asked for Emma & Gold, "Are you really going to do that on Christmas?"

One of the many drawbacks of Storybrooke was that he couldn't avoid a stubborn princess by dint of magicking himself - or, more likely, the girl - away to distant parts. Even Belle, much as he'd loved her, had occasionally been banished to her library when Rumpelstiltskin couldn't make time for her. 

(The difference being that when Belle tracked him down again, and she often did, he didn't really mind.)

Now, however, there was no avoiding Miss Swan as she stood between him and the door of his own shop. Acquainted with that obstinate tilt of her chin after countless meetings with her father in their summer palace, Rumpelstiltskin resigned himself to a conversation - wheels already turning to see how to use this development to push the Savior in the right direction. 

At least he had the advantage of throwing the first salvo.

"Ah, come to tell me you're finished with the weekly report before closing time? What a pleasant surprise."

Emma stood taller, unaware that opponents of bigger size had ceased to be a concern for Rumpelstiltskin centuries ago, and crossed her arms over her chest. "You know why I'm here, Gold."

He met her glare with a raised eyebrow. "Oh?" 

"I just came from Mary Margaret's." Her mouth flattened. "Honestly, Gold. You're not this much of a hard-ass."

He blanked his features, allowing none of his own distaste for the role the curse had imposed on him. Regina might have granted him financial security and the status of a rich man in a small town, but she had made sure to cut him off all the tenuous alliances Belle had convinced him to build in the year before the curse was cast. Charming and his wife - separated as they were in this world - counted among Mr. Gold's most frequent victims. "Care to elucidate, Miss Swan?"

Their eyes met, hers shining with the thirst for justice that ran in her blood, while he kept his gaze clear of anything that wasn't a landlord secure of his rights within a contractual relationship with a tenant - particularly one who'd missed two payments in a row. 

Never mind that Mary Margaret hadn't been able to catch up in twenty-eight years. 

At last Emma broke the silent battle of wills. "Look, I know you love and breathe formality, but you've granted an extension at least once in your lifetime."

He tightened his lips, aware of her meaning. "And I got a hard-working housekeeper for my trouble," he replied, tightening his grip on the handle of his cane at the thought of the maddeningly distant woman Belle had become under the curse. With a scoff, he returned his thoughts to the matter at hand. "Surely you're not suggesting I offer Miss Blanchard a similar deal? If I gave a job to every person who owed me money... That's just poor business sense, Miss Swan."

"Surely," she replied, imitating his patronizing tone, "you can see that Mary Margaret is nothing like the other people you've sent me after. She doesn't drink; she doesn't gamble; she certainly isn't a penny-pincher with less brains than what God gave a mouse..." She took a deep breath, shaking off the annoyance of her encounter with the cursed version of Midas, and continued, "Mary Margaret is a primary school teacher, for God's sake, and a damn good one from what Henry tells me."

"Then teaching is truly a dreadful career, if she can't afford to pay her rent." 

Emma glanced down, hunching her shoulders guiltily for a second before she straightened again. "Yeah, well. Somehow the bank got wind that a minor had used her credit card, and even more strangely, a clause has popped up that blocks her from using it until the situation clears up." She huffed with exasperation. "Regina isn't helping out."

"I'm shocked," Rumpelstiltskin muttered, though it was obvious to both that he wasn't. "However, that makes no difference to me."

Her anger made a swift return, but Rumpelstiltskin still was shocked to see a thread of disappointment in her manner. She had expected him to offer a deal, he realized. Unlike her parents, Emma didn't see a problem in his penchant for trading his help for something of equal value; a side-effect of growing up in a world where having strings attached to a favor was the norm. 

"Come on, Gold," she insisted. "You can't be looking forward to handing out an eviction notice, not to Mary Margaret. You're not that cold-hearted."

He counted it as a personal triumph that she honestly believed that, even after everything she must have heard about him in town. Belle would be proud of the lengths he'd gone to, to earn a measure of the Savior's trust. 

"I don't," he agreed, meeting her eye and letting her gauge his sincerity. "However," he continued when she exhaled, unable to give her the easy solution she wanted since showing lenience to Miss Blanchard after twenty-eight years of apathy would rile up Regina and point her closer to the discovery of his true identity, "there is still a contract signed in Miss Blanchard's own hand."

"A reprieve-"

"Would be a fool's choice. The next thing I know, I'll have a line of people outside asking for the same." He raised a hand to stop her reply, shading his voice with a hint of friendliness. "Miss Swan, you are a smart woman; you have lived in Storybrooke long enough, and most of that time has been spent chasing down the more outstanding debtors and hearing them whine about how they spent the money they owed me. You, more than anyone, know how many people would happily cheat me off my payments. Can you tell me in all honesty that I'm wrong?"

Emma pursed her lips. "No one actually needs to know," she muttered. 

Rumpelstiltskin chuckled. The odds of any version of Snow White keeping a secret were on par with her daughter believing in magic without proof. "I understand Miss Blanchard is your friend," he said, shaking his head, "but I'm afraid there's nothing I can do."

"Are you really going to do this on Christmas?" At his stare, she shrugged. "With only three days to go, you might as well."

"Your friend will be better served by using those days to pack and move on, so she can spend Christmas Eve in her new home. A cheaper one." No need to tell Emma how her mother had spent decades moving from one small, ill-fitted apartment to the next, always with one foot on the street. "Now, if you excuse me-" he waved at Emma to stand aside- "I really can't afford to waste more time."

Unsurprisingly, the girl didn't move. "Come on, Gold. You've helped me before, and I have the feeling you enjoy thwarting Regina even more than Henry does." He couldn't help the curl of his lips at that understatement, and Emma pounced on his apparent flash of good mood. "See? Anyone can see that evicting Mary Margaret will make Regina happy. For whatever perverse reason, she's decided that Mary Margaret is the source of her troubles, like I wouldn't be here if it weren't for her!"

That twist of phrase, so true in the most literal of senses, wrung out a chuckle from deep in his chest. 

His amusement gave Emma new wings. "Help me out here, Gold. Please."

He couldn't give her more than the barest hint. The idea itself had to be her own initiative, or he'd leave himself open to Regina's scrutiny when she came sniffing at Snow White's change of luck. "I'm sorry, Miss Swan," he said, locking gazes with her, "as I told you before, there is nothing _I_ can do."

He saw her eyes widen, taking in his meaning. "But what can I possibly...?"

Rumpelstiltskin tilted his head, taking advantage of her distraction to ease past her. "I have no idea what you mean," he told her, and could tell by her suspicious expression that she wasn't buying that. She opened her mouth to question him further, but he was already letting himself through the door. "Have a good night, Miss Swan!"

Emma didn't chase after him, which prompted a sigh of relief. The last thing he needed was a public argument, but he'd wagered that the suggestion that she could act in Mary Margaret's defense would keep her in place as she worked it out. 

If all went well, mother and daughter would be living under the same roof for the first time in their lives. It was a long shot, but Emma building stronger ties within Storybrooke might hasten the process of her accepting her quest; and even if it didn't... 

Well. 

It still would give Snow White more of an insight of her adult daughter, by the time the curse had broken. Speaking as a parent who longed to reunite with his own child, Rumpelstiltskin thought it was an acceptable exchange for twenty-eight years of making Miss Blanchard miserable every end of the month.

 _Merry Christmas, Your Highness._

And if Mr. Gold chose the long route to reach Miss Blanchard's apartment, and perhaps stopped by a store or two to look for appropriate gifts for a young, beautiful woman and her four-year-old child... Well, it was the season for miracles after all, wasn't it? 

 

The End  
25/12/17

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are love! Merry Christmas to all who celebrate!


End file.
